At that time, Yu Dingding was still struggling with Ye Chen.
"Young Master Ye, I need to return to the eighth floor; my clients are waiting for me! You dragging me up here is clearly cutting off my livelihood."
Ye Chen held Yu Dingding's shoulders tightly and wouldn't let go: "I'll let Alipay chat with you, it won't cut off your revenue."
Having not smelled Yu Dingding's scent for several days, being so close to her, Ye Chen felt as if his soul was being hooked away, how could he possibly let her leave.
But Yu Dingding said: "I want to make money with my own hands."
"How can your hands make money? Helping those old guys in the restroom by giving them a hand?" Ye Chen's eyes were filled with sarcasm.
He thought that Yu Dingding, being thin-skinned, would not be able to handle such mockery.
Little did he expect, after staying on the eighth floor for a while, her skin had thickened day by day.
"If the price is right, it's not impossible."
